The Matchmakers (2 page)

Chapter Two

 
         
Calliope
let Nick gape at her for a minute. Her smile stayed in place even though the
hopelessness of her task welled up inside her and threatened to become the
first good cry she’d had in over a hundred years. When he finally took a
breath, she sighed and braced herself for the interrogation. `Where the hell
did you come from? Are you hurt? What were you doing trying to cross the exit
ramp in the dark are you nuts? How did you get in my truck?Ít all came out in a
tumble of faintly Southern-accented words. Callie hadn’t planned on a surprise
entrance, but she couldn’t change that now, so she had to deal with his tirade
and make the most of a bad situation. He clamped his lips shut on the last
question, his ice-blue eyes nailing her with a hard look. Considering what she
already knew about Nick Garrett the half-drenched, barely shaven, part-time
carpenter, all-around handyman, loner, drifter, womanizer and enemy of true
love those eyes were his only redeeming feature. They made up for a lot of
shortcomings, she supposed, and certainly explained why he never lacked for
female companionship, even though the string of broken hearts he’d left during
his decade-long war on commitment stretched from Berkeley to Bayonne. He
blinked, breaking the hypnotic spell of those beguiling eyes. `Can you hear me?
Are you in shock?Ćalliope nodded. `A little, but I’ll get over it.Ít was
shocking indeed to consider how this man might possibly help her regain her
status in the world of the Fae. Freya had said Nick Garrett had potential and that
he could be reformed, but at the moment, Callie hadn’t the foggiest idea how
she could accomplish such a miracle by herself. `I’ve got a cell phone here
somewhere. I’ll call an ambulance.´ He reached across her lap toward the glove
compartment, and Calliope dropped her hand. Very subtly, she moved her knees
out of his way. `I’m not hurt.´ `No offense, miss, but there’s got to be
something wrong with you if you’re out here in the dark walking along the
highway in the rain. You’re going to get yourself killed.´ He gave her one of
those looks again, an appraisal she supposed. She might have been amused had he
not been the man who personified her punishment from Freya. Her curse. `Did
your boyfriend dump you out here?´ The faint hint of sympathy in his voice
warmed her. Could there beat a compassionate heart somewhere in that rugged,
rain soaked chest? `No. Nothing like that. I’m right where I’m supposed to be,
Nick. And so are you.´ `Well, of all the places in the world to be, this is the
last one either of us ´ He stopped mid-ramble and squinted. `Have we met?´ `Just
now.Ćalliope offered her hand again, but he ignored the gesture. `How do
you know my name?´ The truth threatened to slip out, but Callie reminded
herself that total honesty was part of her problem. Besides, right now, Nick
Garrett didn’t seem as though he’d readily accept that his destiny rested in
the hands of a Fae and that he’d been the subject of much debate among a host
of creatures he likely did not now nor would ever believe existed. `I found
your registration in the glove compartment.´ He swallowed that with a skeptical
tilt of his head. `Nosy, aren’t you?Śhe nodded. And meddlesome, too. In
fact, Nick didn’t know the half of it yet. `Sorry. I suppose that was rude of
me.´ `Not as rude as jumping out in front of my truck.´ `I didn’t jump in front
of your truck.´ He shrugged. `Okay. What’re you doing out here, then? You look
a little too old to be a runaway.Ćalliope feigned indignation. What
bothered her was not that he hadn’t mistaken her for a teenaged waif, since she
knew quite well how good she looked for her age, but that he’d assumed she was
some defenseless female, left to the elements by the carelessness of others.
Part of the debate in her world had concerned Nick Garrett’s view of women in
general as creatures who lived at the mercy of others. A runaway teenager, a
dumped girlfriend, a hooker with a heart of gold these were the female
stereotypes that populated his world, along with more malignant avatars such as
the over-protective mother and the bored housewife looking for an afternoon
diversion with a hired carpenter. The list made Calliope’s skin crawl. Nick
Garrett knew only caricatures of women, and in order to change his world view,
she feared she might have to become one of those caricatures. `Just how old
do
I look?´ `I didn’t say you looked
old, just«not that young. Whatever. I’ll give you a ride somewhere, as soon as I
find my phone and get my truck towed out of this ditch. Or I could call someone
to pick you up.´ `I don’t need a ride.´ `You’re not going to go back out there
and walk?´ `No, I’m going to get your truck out of this ditch. It’s more of a
gully, by the way. And then I’m going with you back to your place.´ The last
time Nick thought twice when a woman invited herself back to his apartment he’d
been«he considered for a split second«he’d never thought twice when a woman
invited herself back to his apartment. In most instances he could recall, the
woman didn’t even have to do the inviting. Under other circumstances, this time
would not have been any different. If he’d met her in a bar, in the supermarket
checkout line, or just about anywhere else, she’d certainly have been his type.
In the patchy light that filtered through the trees from the streetlights above
them, he didn’t see any major flaws. Her green eyes had a soulful tint, and her
half smile seemed genuine, if a little uncertain. In the fluffy coat, her shape
was a mystery, but her jeans stretched tight over long, slim legs crossed at
the ankle under his dashboard. If they’d been sitting at Farley’s, he’d have
bought her a drink without question. Instead, he racked his brain for a polite
way to refuse and get her on her way to wherever she thought she was going. `Ah«any
other time I’m sure I’d like that, Miss«?´ `Calliope. You can call me Callie.´ `Calliope«
That’s Greek, isn’t it?´ `Sometimes.Śhe shrugged. `Now let’s see about
your truck, and we can get on with the business at hand.´
 
Business.
Okay.
That put things in perspective in a big hurry. She had a hell of a
tactic for drumming up customers. `Ahh. As much fun as that sounds like«I’m not
really« maybe some other time.Śhe rolled her eyes, put her hand up and
shook her head. `Whoa, cowboy. Let’s back up a step here.´ Where had he heard
that before? Hadn’t he said something similar to Miranda just this evening when
she’d uttered the `L´ word? The phrase suddenly gave him a chill, and he
squinted at his passenger in the darkness. Did she look at all familiar to him?
`I’m not suggesting we sleep together, Nick.´ For the first time in his life,
that came as a relief. `Good. I mean«I wasn’t, either.´ With that out of the way,
the next step was to find a delicate way to suggest they part company before she
went Lizzie Borden on him. `Right. As long as we have our boundaries
established. Now, let’s take care of the truck so we can get to work.´ `Work?´
That still had an ominous ring to it. What work did she have in mind if she
wasn’t a hooker a creative but slightly scary hooker? Where the hell was his
cell phone? `I’ll explain everything. I promise.´ Nick opened his mouth, intent
on demanding her explanation right now, but before the words came out, the
truck bucked into motion. The pickup surged backward up the embankment, leaving
a trail of broken branches in its wake. The shattered headlights glowed back to
life, and in their halogen beams, those branches mended themselves soggy bark
knitting, wet leaves snapping back into place. The two muddy furrows caused by
the front tires seemed to fold in on themselves, healing in slow motion. The
dash lights came on, even though he hadn’t touched the ignition key, and Willie
sang backward over a clash of discordant notes. A scratch in the paint on the
hood zippered itself into oblivion, and the bent wiper blades straightened and
began swiping dead leaves into the darkness. Nick grabbed the door handle,
prepared to fling himself out into the rain. With a final bone-rattling bump,
the truck lurched over the curb and bounced onto the empty exit ramp. The
engine roared to life, and some unseen force dragged Nick’s hands to ten and
two on the wheel. His right foot found the brake pedal of its own accord, and
next to him, Calliope rubbed her gloved hands together with a gleeful chuckle. `Let’s
rock and roll, Nick!´ He stared at her. `Am I dead?´ `Of course not. But you
will be if you don’t step on it. There’s a huge truck heading for the exit, so
let’s go.´ Brilliant headlights reflecting in Nick’s rear view mirror blinded
him temporarily. A semi’s horn blared, and Nick hit the gas, sending the Dodge
down the ramp where he managed to stomp on the brake again just before the stop
light at the intersection. `Right blinker, Nick,´ his passenger prompted. `We’re
going home«such as it is.´ `Home.´ `Yep. Light’s green, let’s roll.Ćhapter
Three Calliope felt no remorse at taking advantage of Nick’s natural confusion.
Behind the bewildered squint he tossed her way as he steered his miraculously
restored pickup back into town, she saw the coherent spark that would ignite
into a curious flame as soon as he recovered from the shock of recent events.
An ignorant man wouldn’t pose such a threat to the delicate balance of things. Freya
had chosen Nick as Callie’s challenge, her curse, for a good reason. He
understood his actions. He operated with purpose, though not necessarily
conscious,
malignant
purpose. The
dichotomy had Callie confused as well, but there wasn’t time now to contemplate
just how much of Nick’s intrinsic badness was inherent and how much was the
result of his environment. She could debate that with herself later. Right now,
she figured she had another mile and a half before he snapped out of his
obedient stupor. She wasn’t sure whether to be proud of her instincts or
disappointed by his predictability when he made the first deliberately wrong
turn.

 
For a man who’d spent a number of
years working hard to avoid legal entanglements, Nick Garrett had no trouble
subtly easing his truck toward the Bayerville police station. `You don’t have
to be afraid of me, Nick. I’m not a psychopath,śhe said as she rolled down
the passenger window. She pulled off one of her gloves and waggled her fingers
in the damp air. The rain had stopped, but the windshield wipers still thumped
restlessly back and forth, smearing the residual mist over the front window. `Psychopath
is a strong word, sweetheart,´ he replied. He seemed to relax a bit. Clearly he
felt more in control now, probably because, like most humans who’d just
witnessed something they couldn’t readily explain, he believed he’d imagined it
all. Callie’s Fae senses told her he now planned to drop her off at the police
station where the men in blue would make sure she made her way safely back to
the men in white. `I didn’t want to spring this on you, really, but I guess I
don’t have a choice.´ `You have lots of choices, so don’t be hasty about
springing anything on anybody,´ Nick said, increasing his speed just a little. `I
figure we’ll get everything sorted out and get you back where you belong.´ `I
belong with you.Ás much as she hated to admit it, at the moment, he was her
destiny. That thought only added to the perpetual chill she’d felt since she’d
arrived in the human realm. She used her sweetest voice and gave him a sidelong
glance. `You don’t know it yet, but your future depends on me. And mine on you.
We may not like it, but we have a job to do together, and the sooner we get to
work, the sooner we can accomplish what we’ve been charged to do. It’ll be
mostly painless. I promise.Śhe winked, or maybe it seemed more like a
nervous tick to him. Either way, Nick didn’t seem at all reassured by her
explanation. A few seconds later Callie found herself standing on the corner of
Washington Street and Apple Valley Avenue beneath an amber-tinted street light.
She sighed as she watched the taillights of Nick’s pickup recede into the
distance with a sharp squeal of tires. Stamping her feet to ward off the
encroaching chill, Calliope pulled her gloves back in place and crossed her
arms. `That went well.´ Nick debated whether he should go straight back to
Farley’s and order a triple scotch with no ice or to the police station to
report the lunatic he’d just ejected from his truck. The ease with which she’d
vacated his passenger seat when he’d reached across her lap and flung open the
door surprised him more than anything else that had happened since he’d left
Miranda’s. In fact, her ready compliance made him even more nervous. She hadn’t
seemed at all perturbed by his wordless invitation to the curb, and he swore he’d
seen her wave congenially as he drove away. He remembered now, while he waited
at the light on the corner of Ackerman and Apple Valley, that she said she’d
read his registration, which had his current address on it. Dumping her four
blocks from his apartment probably wasn’t the best way to lose her. That `your
future depends on me´ bit coupled with the `mostly painlessćrack made his
spine tingle in an unpleasant way. He found himself searching the shadows for
signs of a fluffy pink coat as he rounded the second corner after the light.
Leaving town sounded better and better. He decided he’d stop home and toss a
few things into a duffle bag, then head back to Farley’s and call the police
from there. She wouldn’t get far by then, and the police would probably have no
trouble finding her, as long as some other hapless driver didn’t pick her up in
the meantime. `Destiny,´ he repeated with a derisive laugh when the distance
eased his mind a bit. `Give me a break.´ He’d dealt with his share of
unpleasant break ups, mostly with clingy women who didn’t want to admit the fun
times were over, but he’d never been stalked before. Especially by a woman he
hadn’t slept with, or even dated or even
met
for that matter. The sudden stab of sympathy he felt for her took him by
surprise, but he managed to shake it off before he pulled into his parking
space and cut the engine. A girl as messed up as that one needed help. Maybe he
should have stuck it out and tried to lure her into the police station. Since
his cell phone didn’t turn up during a quick search of the truck, he decided to
call the police from his apartment. He climbed the stairs and let himself
inside, his guilt weighing heavy. A pretty girl out on the street alone
probably wouldn’t have trouble getting picked up again. Should he worry more
about
her
or the next guy she
shanghaied? `Hi, Nick.Śhe spoke just as he hit the kitchen light switch,
and the shock of finding her there, standing in front of him, nearly gave him a
stroke. She had to have run here from the spot where he’d left her in order to
get into his apartment before he arrived, yet she wasn’t even breathing heavy. She
pulled off her woolly gloves and unzipped her coat to reveal the plain white
t-shirt she wore beneath, and he backed up a step. She bore no weapons that he
could see, though he’d have liked a closer look. He slid his gaze to the phone
on the wall behind her and then to the narrow drawer under the counter where he
kept the sharp knives. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, but he’d learned the
hard way after a run-in with an angry hooker in a bar in Chicago never to
underestimate a woman on the edge. He put his hands up in a calming gesture and
gave her a shaky smile. `How’d you get in here?´ `I popped.Śhe delivered
her casual reply with a shrug. `Could you µpop’ out just as easily?´ `Sure.Ánd
she did. Nick blinked at the now empty kitchen. He whirled around to look
behind him at the equally empty living room, then turned back to the kitchen
again. His first and only thought was how he could have lost his mind so
quickly, with no warning whatsoever. One day he felt perfectly sane, working on
Miranda’s pool house and indulging in nothing stronger than a cold beer at the
end of the day and poof all of a sudden he’s plagued by a recurring
hallucination. Before he could calculate the odds that he’d inherited some
mysterious mental illness from either branch of his uptight family tree, she `popped´
back into the kitchen, all wide smile and sparkling eyes.